


London Calling

by coolangelsthesis



Category: Watch Dogs (Video Games)
Genre: Established Relationship, Fluff and Angst, Homesickness, Idiots in Love, M/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms, Watch Dogs Legion
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-24
Updated: 2020-12-05
Packaged: 2021-03-09 23:48:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,803
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27694394
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/coolangelsthesis/pseuds/coolangelsthesis
Summary: How do you fight against a corrupt system? Throw a Wrench into the middle of it. Apparently.
Relationships: Marcus Holloway/Wrench (Watch Dogs)
Comments: 21
Kudos: 38





	1. I Left My Love in San Francisco

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After being wrongfully blamed for the terrorist attack on the city, DedSec’s London division needs all the help they can get. Somehow, Wrench finds himself as the best San Francisco can offer.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hello hello, welcome to my brain spiral, and here we are going to speculate about the upcoming DLC for watch dogs legion and how wrench could have ever possibly gone to london... on his own??? i simply refuse to believe it. 
> 
> some prefaces:  
> \- though this fic focuses on the new watch dogs game, there will be no direct spoilers to the game. characters in legion (like bagley, of course) will show up later on  
> \- going from my experience playing Legion, there's about a 6 year gap from the ending of wd2 and legion-- so it takes place around 2023?  
> \- who is aiden pierce???  
> \- and most importantly, i love wrencus so much <3
> 
> enjoy!

For a while, DedSec’s San Francisco division was at the top of the world.

The years that followed after landing Blume's CTO behind bars tended to blur together, a dizzying mix of knocking blows to corporations exploiting people behind the scenes, throwing even more rich ego-driven fucks in jail, and traveling around the country to help to establish new DedSec groups and strengthen older divisions. All of this coupled with nights spent drinking and chasing different highs until the sun and a pounding headache greeted them in the morning. Keeping track of time became less of a priority after a while.

Sitara, Josh, Marcus, and Wrench had become something of celebrities among hacker groups. The fallout of their work was palpable everywhere, in every city. People proudly wore Sitara’s art; they shared her videos and her message far and wide. Script kiddies had taken a habit of calling themselves Retr0 or Hawt Sauce, causing unnecessary headaches by being reckless and inadvertently doxxing themselves. Marcus thought it was endearing more than anything, imitation being the best form of flattery and all that. Josh, meanwhile, hated it.

Wrench’s mask caught on in popularity, too. He started to notice rip-offs floating around, first in hacker circles, then in niche corners of punk fashion, and then by anyone and everyone with something negative to say about the government. Of course, the knock-offs were never as cool as Wrench’s, but whenever he saw one in the flesh he had to do a double, triple take.

Fame was cool, but weird. They all discovered fairly quickly that being famous hackers was a bit counterproductive. It got in the way of work.

While they might be able to cleverly hide from the prying eyes of ctOS, they can’t fully hide from the eyes of the public. Someone somewhere was bound to recognize them, and going off of Wrench’s experience, those with a vendetta against DedSec are the ones most likely to know their faces. Usually, they had something to say with their fists— or had their own bodyguards, with much larger fists who could do a whole lot of talking.

Thankfully, years have passed since then, and they’ve managed to dip back into relative obscurity. They could order coffee and get pizza and go to bars without _everyone_ knowing who they were, most days. Their handles were floated around by new hacktivists to prove that they knew their stuff, much like The Fox and Ray Kenney and other vigilantes that came before them.

Throughout the years, a lot has changed. Besides the main four, members of DedSec came and went. The main hackerspace had to be permanently moved to the bunker in Marin after the old place had been leaked online. They got older. Sustained more injuries.

Also residing high at the top of Wrench's list of changes was the state of his love life.

After Marcus and T-Bone had returned from humiliating Dušan as he was taken into custody, DedSec partied hard. Sometime late in the night, Marcus dragged Wrench away from the others to the alley outside HQ. There, Marcus threw Wrench the biggest curveball of his life: he admitted that he's had an awful, unrelenting crush on him for a while, and if Wrench didn’t feel the same, that was okay, but he just really needed to get it off his chest, and he wasn't giving a shit about the consequences because they all just pulled off the biggest hack of the century, had a lot to drink, excuses, excuses.

So it's a good thing, then, that Wrench had been crushing on Marcus ever since that first party on the beach, because that meant he got to push up his mask a little and finally got to know what kissing his best friend was like. He was flabbergasted, really. This whole time, his feelings hadn’t been one-sided?! This news had only been a surprise to him, apparently, since their friends had clued in to their mutual pining and tuned it out a long time ago. Some friends they had.

Best friends quickly became boyfriends; after that, falling stupidly in love with Marcus was only inevitable. After a few months Wrench was moving into Marcus' already cramped apartment. He practically lived there anyway, but officially going from 'boyfriends' to 'boyfriends who live with each other' was, like, one degree away from asking for each other's hand in marriage.

Domestic bliss was never something Wrench knew he wanted. Now that he had it, though, whenever it was out of his grip, he yearned for it all the more. Wrench used to have brief stints with guys and girls here and there, but he never considered seriously dating anyone. At most he got crushes, like with that one waitress, but never took it any further than a few nights together. He preferred it that way, what with DedSec and all his baggage and whatever. The mask made it easier to keep people at an arm’s distance.

But being with Marcus was something else entirely. From the beginning of their friendship, Marcus accepted him without question. Kept him grounded.

Sappy and cheesy as it is, one of the most surprising discoveries to Wrench was learning to love mornings. While he was a night owl by nature, he sacrificed a little more sleep for waking up first, catching a few minutes watching Marcus as he slept peacefully.

The best part of the mornings by far, though, was when they both began to stir, waking up with wordless conversation— their understood ‘good-morning's’ and ‘i-love-you’s’ intermingled between lips brushing against lips, hands seeking hands, bodies moving against one another knowingly, comfortably.

More times than Wrench is comfortable admitting, he had the fleeting thought of retiring from it all. Moving to some obscure town with Marcus, laying low, and spending a couple years being nobodies and playing video games and binging their favorite movies. Though he liked to humor the idea, it was nothing more than a “what-if?” scenario for when he got a little too romantic. He knows himself, and he knows Marcus. They both can't go a week without causing some sort of mayhem. So he never considered it too hard.

That was, until London was bombed to hell and back and DedSec was scapegoated for it. After that, Wrench considered the idea a hell of a lot more.

Dedsec LDN completely vanished after that. Soon after, other groups went dark, and some factions shied away from being labeled as DedSec altogether. Hacktivists who had been connected to DedSec all popped up on Most Wanted Lists across the world— surprising nobody, Marcus was the first to show up on the FBI’s. And it was only while the rest of their team attempted to clear Marcus’ name, Sitara, Josh, and even Wrench’s moniker popped up on there as well.

The TV personalities and news outlets that had once praised DedSec for rearing the ugly head at the heart of Silicon Valley, now shunned them, dragged their name through the dirt. Soon the public’s trust followed suit; losing people meant losing power. Their followers, far in the millions by now, trickled away steadily. The power of their botnet went along with it. In no time, they were back at ground zero— completely and utterly fucked.

Following the bombings, Sitara received a message from the only member of London's group confirmed alive: Sabine. She requested SF’s help directly, noting that they’ve had more than their fair share of fighting back against an omnipresent police state. Naturally, they agreed. Anything to help rebuild London’s resistance, by whatever means necessary.

But assisting overseas could only do so much, especially after the vicious beating they took following the attack. What Sabine needed most was warm bodies, people on the front lines to entice others into rising up. That meant DedSec had to try to solve the improbable task of finding a way to get them inside of a country with iron-clad borders.

Traveling across the U.S. to help other groups was already a huge risk; flying was just asking to be taken into custody. So when an opportunity presented itself, there was little time to hesitate.

For starters, it’s sort of Wrench’s thing that he wears a mask. Everywhere. And besides the times he runs off to somewhere more private with Marcus, it remains fixed there. Always. Which meant that most people— more importantly, facial recognition systems— had no idea what sort of face he had under there.

Secondly, a member of Los Angeles’ DedSec reached out to them, stating that he had a clean record and dual residency in Britain for anyone who could use them. Plus, he had a face similar enough to Wrench’s to get past TSA and security screenings convincingly— besides, you know, having a freakish red birthmark over his face.

As far as the plan went, it was quite basic, almost laughably so in comparison to their regular Ops: Sitara was to teach Wrench how to conceal the mark and all visible tattoos, Josh was to swap the identification on his Optik for the LA guy’s, Marcus was to drive him to LAX and kiss him goodbye, and Wrench was to hop across the pond to somehow help un-fuck London.

Naturally, Wrench hated the idea. Loathed it. Wanted to douse it with lighter fluid and set it ablaze.

Being all by himself, without Marcus? Or Sitara, or Josh, or… hell, everyone else in DedSec? Not just San Francisco, but all of the groups they have helped build from the ground up? Having to expose his real face while flying to a country he’s never been? He hated it. Hated everything about it.

And it’s not like Wrench doesn’t get why it was important. Yeah, DedSec was fucked and he was the only one who had any chance of entering Britain without setting off ten thousand alarms. On the plus side, Wrench had always wanted to visit London— granted, he wished it was under different circumstances, where he and Marcus could play the part of loud, debaucherous tourists— and if he considered the crumbling state of the world, this was about as good of a chance as he was ever going to get.

Yeah, it’s a big deal. But Wrench has feelings. A majority of those feelings are the culmination of him being a stubborn ass, sure, but they’re still feelings.

DedSec had become his family. Wrench was certain that he would have been long dead by now if he had never met Sitara or Josh. And he could have never fathomed the kind of joy that Marcus gave him. Having to be alone again, without anyone to bug or pester or love or crack jokes with... it would eat him from the inside-out.

Only after the worst argument he’d ever had with Marcus and spent a sleepless night camped in his garage like he was in his 20’s again did it finally dawn on Wrench to pull his head out. Though his words had stung, Marcus had been right— he didn’t want to be separated any more than Wrench, but saving DedSec and fighting against fascism was more important than any of them combined. If Wrench wasn’t willing to fight for them, then what was the large ‘A’ across his chest even for?

After a profuse apology and copious kissing and making up, the lovebirds met with the others and the plan was set in motion. A booking for a one-way ticket to London later, and just like that, Wrench was a week away from leaving behind everyone he’s ever known and loved.

It didn’t take long for Josh to figure out how to alter the identification in Wrench’s Optik. Now profiling him showed that he was named Lucas Owen, a 30-something with a normal-looking salary and a totally normal profession as a software engineer, who wore nice-fitting clothes and had the confidence to show off his super normal face in public without being an anxious mess. That last part was still the hardest to fake.

Granted, it was a little easier with Marcus sitting next to him in the airport’s shitty plastic chairs, but he knew that luxury wasn’t going to last for much longer.

Today was the dawn of the final day— his last day in America for god-knows-how-long. His flight was in an hour and a half… closer to an hour now, but he was trying not to think about it.

Much like how he wasn’t trying to think about how dry and heavy the concealer felt on his arms, his hands, his neck, and his _face_. Or how he was trying to forget the countless people shifting past every few minutes as planes came and went that had an opportune look at his real fucking face. And how he was trying to block out how he would have to spend the next sixteen hours on a plane alongside strangers, pretending to be everything that he wasn’t. And, by the way, people could see his _face_?

As soon as his feet were on the ground in Britain, the mask was going back on, consequences be damned.

Clearly, Wrench was failing hard at not dwelling on all the bad. His legs nervously drummed up and down as he fidgeted in his seat, finding nowhere comfortable. 

The dread rolling off of him was not lost on Marcus. He clasped a hand around Wrench’s, squeezing gently to pull him out of the thought spiral. “Yo, Earth to Wrench. You doing okay?”

“If you can count barely fending off, like, four different panic attacks as okay, then sure. I’m great.” Wrench laughed humorlessly. Everything was a joke, from the state of the world, to his own personal melodrama unfolding before him. He sighed, pushing his hands through his hair, letting it fall over where the birthmark would usually be visible if it weren’t for the wonders of makeup. “This sucks.”

“Yeah, it does,” Marcus said, frowning. “This really fucking sucks. I’m already missing you.”

Wrench’s breath hitched at that, as his vision started to blur at the edges. Swallowing down tears, he turned around the hand in Marcus’ grip, interlocking fingers.

“How the hell am I supposed to do this?” he murmured, locking eyes with Marcus. “And how the fuck am I the best we can offer? I’m a weirdo in a mask with a fucking light-up projector on my face, I _suck_ at espionage. My specialties are blowing shit up and tearing things apart. How the hell am I supposed to be useful? I'm not meant to be a leader of the people, not like you or Sitara.”

“Hey, what we accomplished, we did because we did it together. All of us. You know how I would have been fucked if you hasn’t have blown up all of Blume’s server farms? Or how you spent hours reading TIDIS manuals to help get me inside?”

“Yeah. So?” Wrench blinked, not following.

“So stop second-guessing yourself so much. You’re a important part of any good team. Ain’t that why we’re DedSec? Everyone has something special to bring to the table.” Marcus got that special glint in his eye saved for when he was passionate about something, usually DedSec. “Plus, from everything I’ve heard, London is in need of a ‘weirdo’ in a mask whose skill set includes blowing shit up and tearing things apart. And also, Mr. Negative, do I need to remind you that I care about you a whole damn lot and I would never, ever leave you alone? I’m always a video call or a text away. So’s everyone else.” Marcus smirked. “Or is this you letting me know you’re planning on never calling or texting me again?”

Wrench snorted. “ _Pfft._ Don’t be ridiculous. Of course I’m going to be annoying you all the time, but… you know what I mean.” He exhaled slowly, hesitant to say the thought aloud— something he’s sure they’ve both heavily considered. “Like… what if we never see each other again?”

Marcus unclasped his hand from Wrench’s, wrapping the arm around his boyfriend’s shoulders.

“That won’t happen,” Marcus said, tone certain. “I _promise_ you that. Even if it takes weeks, months… shit, I’ll even follow you across the damn world and break you out of a jail cell if I need to. No matter what happens, I’m gonna welcome you back home with open arms. Promise.”

Sometimes Wrench wondered if maybe his boyfriend was part psychic, because Marcus had this knack for knowing exactly what Wrench needed to hear. Marcus: his part-time personal motivator, personal ray of sunshine, and possible psychic boyfriend.

Wrench cracked a smile. Not feeling the whole smiling thing yet, he showed his gratitude by leaning forward and kissing Marcus softly.

“Thanks, M. I’ll try my best to not get arrested or injured, and I'll try my best to come back home without any limbs missing…” He chuckled. “Unless you find that kinda thing hot?”

“Hah, well I mean, I’ll take whatever of you I can get. But preferably I’d like to have you back in one piece.”

“Can’t promise anything, but I’ll try my best to not do anything stupid.”

Like dying. But Wrench chose to keep that part to himself. He wanted to savor every last moment he had guaranteed with Marcus, at the very least.

Trying to lighten the mood, Marcus shifted the conversation by mentioning rumors of a possible sequel to _Cyberdriver_. Wrench laughed it off, not buying it; Jimmy Siska was way too old to play the role convincingly now, one. Two, nearly all cars can talk and drive by themselves now. Where’s the gimmick supposed to be? Being sentient?

They laughed and made each other laugh with their stupid jokes. Speculating what kind of cyber-cringetastrophy a second installment in the series would be. A healthy dose of Marcus’ Siska impression never hurt, either. Even if it’s only for a few minutes, things were normal again.

Then, a soft jingle over the airport’s intercom pulls them out of their conversation. A calm, disembodied voice relays latest flight announcement: _Passengers for flight BA476 heading to London will begin boarding soon. Please head to gate G. Again, passengers for flight…_

And just like that, the illusion of normalcy gave way. The pit in Wrench’s stomach bottomed out. He doesn’t want to do this. Not alone. Having to say goodbye to his friends had already been painful enough, he simply couldn't bear saying goodbye to Marcus, for possibly forever.

But what Wrench wants doesn’t matter now. His friends, his boyfriend, all of DedSec was counting on him. He couldn’t let them down, not after all they’ve done together. Not when everything they’ve built was on the brink on collapsing.

He hoped that maybe in an alternate timeline, his romantic side won him over and the two of them ran off into nowhere. It might be boring, sure, but maybe Wrench would have found the courage to drop down on one knee by then. Maybe they’d both be able to rest easier at night, not having to worry if the next Op to go wrong would be their last.

Slowly, Wrench rose from his seat. He couldn't bear see the pain Marcus' face he's certain is there; he'd never let himself board that plane otherwise.

They both fell into silence. There was still so much left to be said, so much that already said, so much that deserved to be repeated again and again and again. But there’s no time for any of that now.

Staring down the airport's tile floor, Wrench broke the silence. “Looks like we’re at the end of the line for the ol’ Wrench. They've got a guy with comically sized cane backstage and waiting to take me away.”

“Wrench...” Marcus began, then stopped. He tried a couple more times, searching for what to say. But nothing ever came.

Choosing actions over words, Marcus enveloped Wrench in his arms and pulled him in, pinning him close. Wrench buried his face into Marcus' neck, flinging his arms around his shoulders. His breath staggered, the urge to cry resurfacing. Instead of fighting them back again, he let the tears come.

Wrench carved out every little detail of Marcus deep into his brain like it was made of soft marble: the gentle mix of his cologne and the smell of his skin, the drumming of his heartbeat, the gentle brush of his stubble, his glasses awkwardly bumping against his nose as they shared one last kiss. Neither of them dared to pull away, like the safety of each other's arms was enough to keep time at a standstill.

“Fuck, I’m going to miss you so much,” Wrench whispered, voice thick. "Tell the others I miss them too."

"Yeah. We're all gonna miss you." Marcus pulled out of their embrace just enough to get a good look at Wrench’s face. His soft, dark eyes pleaded, begging him to please be safe. _Please._

Sniffling back tears, Wrench reluctantly unwound himself completely from Marcus. He drew in a shaky breath, preparing himself. Not that he was ready for this in the slightest.

“No matter what happens, just know that I love you, M. More than fucking anything.”

“I know. I love you, too, Wrench. _So much_. Call me when you can... okay?”

“I will. Promise.”

Wrench gathered his things and then he was off. After a few steps, he paused. Glancing over his shoulder, he allowed himself one final, lovelorn look at Marcus before heading towards his plane, towards London, alone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> chapter title's from [san francisco - foxygen](https://youtu.be/Tq19haZ0w7s), who most definitely got that line from tony bennett buuut this is not my music opinions blog. hmu if you're interested in that though.
> 
> anyway, this WAS supposed to be a short thing, but an outline later and suddenly i had a multichap fic on my hands. whoops! i am reaaaaally excited about this one, though. i've had a blast getting lost exploring london, and i can't wait to be able to do that as wrench ahahaha (no marcus, though? c'monnnnnn ubisoft)
> 
> also thanks, as usual, to [dramaticalhearts](https://archiveofourown.org/users/kusokawaii/pseuds/DramaticalHearts) for being my beta! <3 
> 
> let me know what you think! :) kudos and comments are always appreciated. also find me on twitter @sleepdrifting or tumblr @every-nowhere. 
> 
> see you in the next chapter!


	2. Wish You Were Here

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> No matter how busy Wrench keeps himself, he can't always fight off the homesickness.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i am on a roll? this is so weird. exciting, but weird lol!

Once he was finally outside of Heathrow, Wrench stepped into a cab— entirely autonomous, how fancy and dystopian— and put in the coordinates he’d been given.

Wrench drew in a big breath, dropping the Normal Guy act he’d been playing since he boarded his flight, and exhaled softly, his chest sinking. The last 24 hours had already made their way near the top of his running list of ‘Top Ten Worst Life Experiences’. He needed a drink. Maybe something stronger if he could get a hold of it.

Reaching into his bag, Wrench retrieved his mask from the secret pocket it was concealed in. Running a hand over its spikes and LED screen, he put the mask back in place and waited for it to boot up, mask cycling through various states of emotions. 

Feeling slightly more like himself, he reached into his jacket and grabbed his phone. It was going to be hard getting accustomed to this large gap between time zones. He landed in London hours ago, and his plan was to find to the London hackerspace and pass out on the most welcoming piece of furniture they had. But some Border Force agents eyeing him as he boarded off the plane had different plans.

Wrench had been shoved into a cramped room with fluorescent lights that stung his eyes. Hours dragged by, trying to convince rough, stern-faced pencil-pushers that was the spitting image of a respectable citizen and definitely not some sort of hacker-terrorist. With the day already well into the afternoon, he could only guess that it was very, _very_ late at night back home. A pang of guilt ran through him. He hoped Marcus didn’t stay up this whole time.

Keeping his hopes low, Wrench tapped into their private voice channel. Marcus was already there, waiting.

“Wrench?!” Marcus spoke first, concern and exhaustion palpable in his voice. Wrench’s heart sank. “Oh, thank _fuck_.”

“I’m _sooo_ sorry, M. I was gonna call you as soon as I landed, but...” Wrench tried to joke. “Had to keep you on your toes, you know?”

“Yeah, thanks, you bastard.” Marcus sighed with relief from the other side of the phone. “It’s so good to hear your voice. Glad they didn’t find your mask. Feeling a little more normal again?”

“Don’t know about ‘normal’, but…” Wrench closed his eyes, leaning the back of his head against the car seat. He wanted nothing more than to see his boyfriend’s face right now, but video calling would have to wait until he was someplace safe. “How long have you been waiting for me?”

“Since you landed. To be honest, I’ve been on edge since your flight took off, but...” Marcus stopped mid-sentence to yawn. “It’s all good. Needed to make sure you were okay.”

“Hey, if you need to get some sleep, we can talk later. I made you wait long enough. I can deal.”

“Nah. I just got a hold of you, I ain’t sleeping yet. How was your flight?”

“Awful. Well, I mean… it wasn’t all bad.” Wrench shrugged. “I guess. Mostly I’m just hung up on the… well. You know. Flight attendants kept bringing drinks, so at least I was buzzed the whole time. I marathoned all of _Lord of the Rings_ \-- extended versions, of course. That was probably the best part. Okay, yeah, it wasn’t _that_ bad. Compared to what I just got out of, anyway.”

“What do you mean?”

Wrench didn’t want to tell Marcus the truth, but knowing Marcus, he'd definitely worry more if he avoided the question. “... Got detained.”

“ _What_?! Jesus, Wrench, what happened?”

“I messed up my story. Forgot a couple parts. Had lots of inconsistencies. I couldn’t relax because _face_ and that made me look even more sketchy. They’re not all that smart, though. The lady didn’t log out of her computer when she went to run another background check, so I made it look like my slip-ups were their system’s problem, not mine. I made it look like their algorithm got me confused for someone else, so they let me go. When in doubt, blame the technology, right?”

Wrench cleared his throat, pushing down an urge to cry. The frequency at which that had been happening recently was starting to piss him off. 

“Well, not without roughing me up first. That private military, Albion or whatever they’re called, they’ve been looking over the whole operation since the bombings. They’re so fucking aggressive, like they’re looking to fill their quotas for the month.”

Marcus was silent for a long time, processing everything Wrench just dumped on him. He let out a heavy sigh.

“Fuck… are you okay? Did they hurt you? That sounds awful.”

“I’m not hurt, but I’m— it’s just been an awful day. Emotionally. One of the worst.”

“Yeah, no kidding… I’m really sorry you had to go through all that.”

“Thanks, M. I’ll be fine.”

“If you say so...” Marcus paused. “It’s too bad you couldn’t go into normal Wrench mode on ‘em then, I know you could have single-handedly kicked all their asses.”

Wrench could tell what Marcus was doing, trying to offer him a distraction. He appreciated it. He needed the distraction right now. “Oh, trying to flatter me, are you?”

“Depends. Is it working?”

Wrench laughed softly. No matter the circumstances, Marcus was always able to put him in a better mood. He caught Marcus up with the rest of the details of his terrible day, then they said their goodbyes as his cab pulled into its destination. Wrench pushed down the wave of loneliness creeping over him; he’d have to get used to the feeling again.

Stepping out of the cab, he quelled the emotional sting and the exhaustion and switched into the loud, boisterous Wrench that everyone expected of him. 

A woman in her late 20’s, long hair, half of it buzzed off, and face full of piercings, started approaching him. More than likely, she was the operative he was set to meet. Or it could be a hitman in a shadow organization ready to put a bullet between his LED-paneled eyes. At this point, anything could happen honestly.

As she drew in closer Wrench could immediately tell that this girl was DedSec. Her DedSec shirt might have been a good giveaway, but the tell was the look on her face, an expression Wrench had seen countless times before. 

“Oh my god!” she grinned, wearing that look of admiration that made him both delighted and self-conscious. “That’s really you, isn’t it? _You’re_ Wrench?”

Faking a grin, Wrench threw his arms out wide. “‘ello, London! You ready to kick some Big Brother ass?”

***

Wrench had watched enough British media throughout his life to expect what living in London would be like— cold, dreary, and grey. In all honesty, he hadn't been too far off.

The state the city was in, though, was even worse than anything Wrench could have imagined. The city was a mass-surveilled Orwellian nightmare. You couldn’t go anywhere without security cams greeting you everywhere, or security drones hovering over you, or overblown security guards on every corner beating naysayers into submission.

Brushing aside the tech dystopia and police state for a moment, Wrench eventually acclimated to life in London. He didn’t mind the rain or the fog. He enjoyed it, actually; it was like having a little slice of home with him. 

What he couldn’t stand, though, was the fucking _cold_. His preferred style of wearing clothes until they literally fell apart did not fare well with the type of cold that permeates deep into the bone. He had no other choice than to buy himself a new wardrobe once the weather dipped into freezing temperatures.

It had barely registered that three months had passed since he flew into London. Things have been so hectic around DedSec that he hasn’t had a chance to take a proper break. Plus, any free time that he _did_ have was spent catching up with everyone back home.

This group was unlike any that Wrench had worked with. He clued in quickly that this was in part because this division was not simply a group of hacktivists punching upwards— this DedSec was a _resistance_. Everyone and anyone sick of the authoritarian regime stepping on their necks was welcomed to the team. They required strength in numbers.

Marcus had been right— his skillset turned out to be exactly what London was in need of. However, that meant that Wrench was always in high demand. Cooking up explosives, building 3D-printed weapons for those with a penchant for violence... anything to keep his mind busy.

But he couldn’t always fight off the homesickness. He kind of, actually, really _loved_ London, but all of the sights and all his accomplishments felt incomplete if he didn’t have his friends or his boyfriend around to enjoy it with him. He wanted to share everything about London with them— everywhere he went there was something that reminded him of home.

For one, London’s street art is bright, big, punchy, and colorful: the classics of Sitara’s style. Following their triumph over Blume, her work had a rippling effect on the kinds of street art utilized by DedSec factions around the globe. She did the impossible by making their scattered noise come together into one cohesive message.

Whenever Wrench saw a piece of art that she was guaranteed to love, he sent her a pic and, usually, within fifteen minutes she would respond back, recognizing their handle or their art from somewhere online. Always the social butterfly, Sitara never disappointed, did she?

He was also pretty sure that if Josh were to ever step foot in London, he would probably have a meltdown. Not that Wrench could blame him, the drone network in London was _massive_. And invasive. During his first few weeks in the city, he avoided leaving the safehouse as much as possible, for fear of being ratted out for his mask by some unquestioning patriot.

Then the operative he first met showed him how to exploit a cargo drone and fly it freely over the roofs and streetlights and droves of drones. Since then, Wrench has swore off any other form of transportation. Cameras couldn’t catch him if he was in the fucking sky! It was downright genius. He’d have to show Marcus that trick when (if) he went back home.

Speaking of Marcus, when it came to what reminded him of his boyfriend… well. That one wasn’t fair. _Everything_ reminded him of Marcus.

He always made fun of Marcus’ insatiable need to document every little thing by camera. He had a penchant for taking several hundreds of photos whenever they went on a road trip together. But he quickly became that guy, too, and sent Marcus an endless stream of pictures of things he’d like— tourist attractions, pop cultural landmarks, and, _ugh,_ taking the risk for the sake of Marcus’ happiness, lots and lots of dogs.

But this most recent discovery had to take the cake. For sure.

When he first passed by the poster, he thought nothing of it. CD2? The fuck kind of movie was that supposed to be? When it clicked, though, he turned right around and caught back up to the marquee. His eyes passed down to the actor credits, and once they landed on the name he was searching for— Jimmy Siska— he grinned wildly.

“Ohhhh, no way,” he laughed, pulling up his camera to take a picture. “Marcus is going to _love_ this.”

“Dear god,” Bagley piped in, the British voice-slash-personal assistant that now resided in Wrench’s ear. “Is Hollywood so desperate for movie ideas that they stooped low enough to make a sequel to Cyberdriver? The first was pure drivel.”

“No, it wasn’t,” Wrench argued back. “It was _terrible_ , which is why it’s amazing. So bad it’s good, you know?”

“You Americans really do have low standards for your content, don’t you?”

“Hey, I have _exquisite_ taste, thank you very much. Besides, not like some AI could understand the nuanced, feel-good story of a middle-aged man and his smart car.”

“Let’s keep it that way!”

DedSec LDN’s hacked version of Bagley was nothing like the one that came preloaded into every Blume-powered Optik. This Bagley was less smart assistant and more smartass assistant; regular Bagley usually just gave restaurant suggestions and GPS routes, this Bagley had a witty comeback for every occasion, much like Wrench. They got along pretty well. Most of the time.

He readied a text with the image and a slew of exclamation points to go along with it, but stopped himself. Marcus was definitely asleep right now, and Wrench wanted nothing more than to see his reaction in real-time. He would save it to show it to him during their video call later that night instead.

Still smiling to himself and thrilled at a new shitty Siska movie on the horizon, Wrench left. He headed towards his original destination, helping to gather intel with a new recruit.

But Bagley was insistent on keeping the discussion going. 

“Aha! After doing a bit of quick research, I found some news articles detailing a high-profile stunt in the San Francisco area. People reported seeing the vehicle around town, pulling dangerous stunts, covered in DedSec propaganda. But the kicker was that the car didn’t have a driver! Aw, that’s adorable, how that was once breaking news.”

Wrench remembered that long night spent getting the damn car to do what they wanted, all of them waist-deep in energy drinks and sugar. “Hah, oh yeah…” 

“Judging by your reaction, I’m going to go out on a metaphorical limb and assume that was your doing?”

“Still have the car in storage, actually. You should have asked me to bring it!”

Nostalgic, Wrench thought back the days when they’d been young and stupid. They still were stupid, probably. Not much had changed since then; mostly they just went to bed a little bit earlier. 

Sitara started building a name for herself in the world of fashion, with prints of hers becoming coveted pieces of streetwear. Josh started making videos sharing his process for custom drones or building machines that sounded improbable; he quickly exploded in popularity online. And Marcus got smarter and handsomer by the day.

As for himself, Wrench was about the same, more or less. The biggest changes have been the stable relationship thing, having more of a set routine thanks to mentioned relationship. Less unbridled rage, better coping mechanisms, too.

Well... until recent events, that is.

He had taken up a new hobby, though. Instead of turning it inwards like he usually did, he found an external outlet. Baby steps.

For a meager amount of cash at any boxing ring around London, he could beat the shit out of someone to take out that pent up anger and rage and loneliness on. Sure, the bruises and sprains hurt, but they were a hell of a lot better than the hollow, empty feeling of loneliness.

He missed his friends. He missed his family.

*

Later that night, after all members of DedSec cleared out of the safehouse, Wrench got comfortable on the couch with a beer and a laptop. While it was the late hours of night for most of London, and the beginning of the day for others, the night had only just begun back home. He had been looking forward to this all week— a chance to get together with his friends, to unwind and catch up.

He pulled up his mask a little and took a long swig from the amber bottle, then booted up the video call. The computer stalled, taking a while to connect to the proper network. By the time he’d taken another drink, his connection was through, and on his screen appeared the hackerspace in the bunker and his boyfriend sitting in front of the camera, grinning big.

Wrench’s heart did a little kickflip. He smiled, mask flashing heart eyes. “Marcus!”

“Yo, Wrench! How’s London?”

“Oh, you know, cold. Dystopian. The usual. How’s San Francisco?”

“Rainy. Boring without my favorite anarchist. The usual.”

They went quiet for a moment, both too giddy about seeing each other again that they didn’t know where to start. Like they were two unsure, unprepared teens on their first date. Their daily video calls in the morning-slash-evenings, dependent on time zones, always started like this.

Wrench finally tore his eyes off Marcus to roam around the hackerspace behind him. It looked like nobody else was there. For Marcus’ sake, he took off his mask, setting it down on the couch beside him. And his very predictable boyfriend did what he usually did and just stared at him, completely love-struck.

Wrench laughed away his shyness and threw him an easy question. “So, uh… where’s the rest of the gang?”

“They’re on their way. I just wanted to have some time with you first.” Marcus’ smile grew. “Man, I’ve missed you so much.”

Wrench melted into a puddle of spikes and leather at that. He was about to double down on the romance, when he suddenly remembered the really important thing he had been trying not to forget about all day. Which he had most definitely forgotten about.

“Oh shit! Oh my god!” he exclaimed, clasping his hands to his head. “I almost forgot! Marcus! There’s something I gotta show you. You’re going to lose your _mind_.”

“Uh.” Marcus raised an eyebrow. “This isn’t along the lines of what I’m thinking, is it? Sitara and Josh are coming soon, man.”

“Noo! No! I mean… unless you want it to be? But no! No! You are going to _love_ this!” He pulled out his phone, selecting the image of the movie poster and sending it to Marcus. “Behold!”

They both waited anxiously for Marcus’ phone to chime. Ringing, Marcus hesitantly picked up his phone, opened the image, studied it closely. Confusion took hold of him, giving way to excitement once it clicked.

He met Wrench’s eye through the webcam, a grin spreading over his lips. “Holy shit! Is that...?”

“Yup! Cyberdriver 2, baby!”

“ _Hell yeah_!” Marcus clapped his hands together, laughing delightfully. The sound was like cliched music to Wrench’s cliched ears. “See, I told you! I knew it wasn’t just some rumor! Wait, that has to mean there’s a trailer out, right?!”

Wrench gasped. “Shit, I didn’t even think about that! Pull it up, pull it up!”

They flew to their keyboards, but Marcus was faster. He shared his screen and loaded up the trailer.

“You ready, babe?” Marcus double-checked.

Wrench got comfy, taking another drink of his beer. “Hit it!”

Marcus hit play, then the trailer began with several wide-pan shots of a bright, neon city, buildings stacked high. From the get-go, it was clearly meant to give the feel of the distant future, the glitzy sheen of cyberpunk that popular movies and video games had gravitated towards in the last few years. A hovering car whooshed past the camera, carrying the title card for the movie along with it. _Ah,_ Wrench thought to himself. _So_ that’s _the gimmick. The car hovers now._

The rest of the trailer was in line with any typical Siska movie— plenty of explosions, Devon von Devon turning bad guys to swiss cheese, with even cheesier dialogue. Then, the final shot showed Devon standing before the ashen remains of the city, floating car at his side. In cool guy protagonist fashion, he pushed up his sunglasses and walked into the horizon.

As the screen went to black, Marcus and Wrench whooped and laughed, celebrating from opposite sides of the screen. If they’d been in the same room, they’d probably be bouncing off the walls, clinging to one another; caught up in heat of the moment by kissing each other stupid. God, he wanted that so bad.

“That. Was. So. _Awesome_!” Wrench grinned, adding necessary emphasis to every word. “Can we watch it again?”

“ _Fuck. No_ ,” a familiar voice called from off screen. It was Sitara. “You really thought that was good, Wrench?!”

Somewhere in their excitement, Sitara and Josh had announced their welcome, but it had been deafened by some cyborg being blown up in the trailer. She stepped into view, hands full with pizza and beer, and Josh trailed behind her, waving at Marcus and the computer Wrench was connected to.

“Took you guys long enough,” Marcus waved, greeting them in. Wrench took the opportunity to slip his mask back on.

While Marcus was the only person on this entire planet that Wrench felt _truly_ comfortable showing the face behind the mask, he was marginally okay with Sitara and Josh getting glimpses of his face here and there. Besides, Sitara already had to bear witness to a whole lot of his bare face when concealing his birthmark.

Placing the items in her arms down on the large table in the middle of the bunker, Sitara walked up behind Marcus and rested her elbow on his shoulder. “By making another movie, they’re just _begging_ to get hacked again. Maybe we should drop in for a surprise visit?”

“You think the hovercar actually works?” Marcus asked, turning to Josh to gauge his reaction. He looked horrified. “Having floating car would be fuckin’ _dope_. Admit it, Josh.”

“Not to ruin your dreams, but more than likely, it’s advanced CGI techniques,” Josh said, ducking back out of Wrench’s view. “If anyone was building prototypes for a hovercar, we would have heard about it by now. But… it would be pretty cool.”

Wrench chimed in from the other side of the planet. “Hey, you guys aren’t thinking of committing grand theft auto without me, are you?”

“’Course we weren’t!” Marcus laughed, absolving himself from guilt by getting up from his seat for food.

Sitara took his seat once vacant. “How’s it going, Wrench? It feels like I say this every time, but it’s really been forever since you left. Hope you aren’t missing us too much.”

“That’s supposed to be my line! I know life must be boring without the life of the party there.” Wrench’s mask winked. “Things are picking up steam here pretty fast. They always keep me busy.”

“Guess you’re their MVP: Most Valuable Pyro,” she smirked as Wrench laughed at her joke. Then she leaned closer into the webcam. ”How are you, really? Besides DedSec.”

For a moment, he fell silent. “I’m… okay.”

He didn’t want to tread on anything too dark right now. He just needed to have a good time with his friends to quell all the bad. Wrench knew that Sitara would get what he meant. She nodded and changed the subject. And that was that. 

Marcus returned to the computer, chastising Sitara for taking his spot. Being the genius and diplomat he was, Marcus came up with a better idea. For a while, Wrench’s view was blurry with the commotion of setting up shot in another part of the bunker. After getting everything settled, Marcus turned to Wrench for his approval.

Squishing in between Sitara and Josh on one of the hackerspace couches, Marcus asked, “This alright, Wrench?”

He nodded, polishing off his first beer. The sight of the three together filled his chest with warmth. How he wanted to leap inside his computer and take a spot there next to them, or find a way to bend space-time to teleport them all over to London...

They spent most of the night catching up, Wrench sharing stories of his heroic acts of vigilantism and Josh clued him in to the biggest surprise San Francisco’s team has had in months. In a surprising and strange turn of events, Ray had reached back out to them. With how long it had been since anyone had last seen or heard from him, Wrench was convinced that he either retired or died in an explosion. He wouldn’t have been surprised if either option had happened by now. He needed their help with some project he was working on. 

All that Ray had told them so far was that whatever this was, it was really fucking important and strictly confidential. Ray was planning on stopping by the city sometime within the next week. Which was exciting. Wrench was excited for them and totally not jealous at all. 

After a while, exhaustion got the better of Wrench— it was 6AM, afterall. Marcus wished him goodnight by kissing his camera and peppering him with words of affection, and Wrench laughed as he slowly shut his laptop.

Then Wrench was by himself again. But for a second it was okay, because he was filled with butterflies and happiness and love and all that good sappy shit. But like the crest of the wave as it crashes to shore, reality settled back in. He was alone, accompanied only by the distant hum of the computers and boxcars miles away rattling the bones of the abandoned train station. 

The British voice in his ear striked up again. Can't even have a breakdown by yourself anymore, Wrench thought.

“Sorry, but I can’t help but notice the sharp, sudden drop in your mood,” Bagley said. “Would you enjoy my witty, thoughtful companionship, or would you prefer some time alone?”

“Some time alone would be great, thanks,” Wrench sighed, placing his head in his hands.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> gently pats wrench on the head....
> 
> if you didn't know, the cyberdriver 2 thing is [a real easter egg](https://miss--moth.tumblr.com/post/634425426115280896/found-a-poster-for-cyberdriver-2-starring-the-man), which i am _delighted_ by
> 
> also since the media player is nonexistent in legion, i made a [playlist](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/0ksxyLCfJINLlqsaRcMGXG?si=VNe-eJJyRzGyYbA3Cef6Rw) of songs that fit the mood of the game. if you need dystopian jams, i am your guy
> 
> thank you for reading!!! see you in the next chapter <3


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